Back to the topic at hand: the lone MLS game yesterday. Ben and I attended, and yeah, it was a thorough, well-deserved beat down by United at 4-1. The Galaxy backline looked like they would much rather be napping in the shade; it appeared as if United’s runs were beating them soundly at even half-speed. As Matt Bourque notes over at DCist, “I counted eight such instances during which a United attacker had the ball with only the keeper to beat.” It was a pretty sound whoopin’. David Beckham was marked well, and really, when he did get off a cross (and there were a couple of beauties) no one was even close to being on the end of them. For instance: Edison Buddle, when Becks is looking to pass, just run towards the net. Good things will happen.

Additionally, my firm dislike of Landon Donovan was cemented further. Will somebody tell this guy that only players that can hack it at the world class level can whine and complain like that? (See: Drogba, Didier and Ronaldo, Cristiano.) Donovan fully deserved his yellow card for dissent. And there’s no way Gallardo deserved anything more than a yellow for an incidental finger to the eye. A straight red there would have been a pretty terrible decision by the referee, who for all the heat and the national pressure, handled the game pretty well. There were a couple of incidents where I thought tackles were getting a bit too sloppy and players much too out of hand, but the game ended in relative calm. So kudos to the officials.

The argument could also be made that the MLS game was a much more exciting affair than the Euro final (as That’s On Point mentions) – but as we all know, that really has more to do with the sub par defensive quality in the American league than anything else.

Oh, yeah, and it was crazy, insane, ridiculously hot. So, about those seats at RFK – which are mostly metal, and haven’t been painted since 1864? It makes it really difficult to focus on the game when you’re worried about your ass, back, and thighs getting those griddle marks that you see on hamburgers in advertisements.

This week’s edition of Transit on Thursday (authored by yours truly, as usual) is now up at DCist. This week’s main talking point: are the Red Line’s morning rush hour trains scheduled too close together? (Hint: yes.)

You know, I’ve put some serious thought into making this into a blog where I just highlight ridiculous things from the numerous listservs that I’m on, but I think it might be better to keep it as a once in a while thing. It’ll be more fresh that way.

But anyway, here’s an excerpt from an email that got sent out on the Cleveland Park listserv, which basically tells you everything you need to know about the neighborhood:

Just a quick note to report yet another mischief/criminal type
incident in the neighborhood. Two nights ago a couple of the houses
in the 3100 block of Rodman Street were pelted with eggs. As best we
can tell, it happened in the middle of the night and the eggs were
thrown at the rear of the houses and onto the rooftops. One window
was broken. Nothing was taken–more mischief than crime but a real
pain to clean and, of course, repair in the case of the window. An
empty egg carton with an unfamiliar brand (not typical of the local
grocery stores) was found nearby.

Oh noes! Egg-throwing? We should probably call Homeland Security on the double. This gets double stupidity points for actually coming on the heels of a few emails about people attempting to break into houses by asking for people that didn’t live there. (You know, it’s really almost the same level of crime.)

I mean, the last time I checked, kids get the summer off from school. But don’t ask me – I just watch a lot of Law and Order, and probably aren’t qualified to make conclusions regarding this hideous and unsolvable crime against humanity.

Everyday, when I come out of the underground tunnel that we call the Van Ness-UDC Metro station, I have to cross this small street on my piddly little walk back to the apartment building. It’s really a pretty small obstacle to getting back and planting myself on the couch for some serious QT with a Kirin Ichiban and my good friend Google Reader. But the intersection is one of many on Connecticut Avenue that includes a left-hand turn signal for people that are attempting to get back to their apartments and, well, do the same thing I want to do.

I understand and empathize with these left hand turners. Frankly, I almost pity them in a way. These are people that obviously have to commute somewhere around the Beltway during rush hour – which would probably be hellish enough – but not only that, on my walk home, they are coming southbound. Which means they probably work at some firm in la-la suburb land. Plus, they have to pay for gas. (I’ll cut them some slack on the whole killing the environment thing, because, honestly, I’m not sure how much more they could take before offing themselves.)

The lights are a small concession for these poor people that spent a third of their lives in their cars.

Where was I? Right, crossing the street. So, as I’m walking up, just minding my own p’s and q’s, I always have to stop at this light – since during rush hour, it’s just not a very long light. Fine. I don’t mind waiting for cars – as I’ve already described in way too much detail. However, when other pedestrians get to the crosswalk, they usually simply just walk across whenever the light for Connecticut Avenue should turn green. Oh, if only it were that simple! The light for that left-hand turn always comes on. And you know what happens here – people try to cross in that whole “if we cross together as six people, no one can hit us!” logic.

I do not buy this logic. I wouldn’t accept this logic as a gift, and frankly, I kind of want to boycott this logic’s manufacturer. I find this logic insulting and I want it off my television.

I’ve seen the video footage of those poor women getting hit by that Metrobus. I know what drivers are like around here.

The hardest part to comprehend is that it’s not even possible to tell when someone is actually turning or not at the intersection. Every time I stop there, there is someone that I will brandish “the Leader of the Pack.” This is the same person that feels the need to budge in front of everyone else at other busy crosswalks (Farragut Square comes to mind), when a Metro train arrives at the platform, and other situations. This jackass decides the level of certainty that the people that want to cross the street have of making it. I mean, it’s always 100% according to this person, so it really doesn’t involve much work. As far as I can tell, it mainly involves just sticking your head out – usually with a cigarette in your hand blowing smoke into people faces – and seeing if there is a car with a turn signal on at the front of the line. If not, everyone go! If so, you wait, and the Leader then turns into another one of my favorite roles, the Stink Eye Giver. Basically, if a car is actually turning and making use of the light, this person will give it the stink eye whilst walking in front of it. For what reason, I’m not really sure.

This just furthers my dazed outlook on the whole damn situation.

So I don’t participate. I vote with my conscience on this one. I kindly wait until the little, white, illuminated man tells me that it’s my turn to walk, and also informs me of exactly how many seconds I have left on my journey across Yeazey.

But part of me knows that this Brotherhood of Preemptive Crossers is always looking at me like some sort of outsider, a rebel who isn’t joining in their little game, their union. I swear to god, I’ve gotten the stink eye before.

But you know what? I don’t care. Because someday, when I’m walking home from work, and some idiot steps in front of a 1998 Ford Taurus trying to get back to Van Ness East for some relaxing on the couch, someone is going to need to call an ambulance.

I will attempt to not give the stink eye as they’re loading him or her onto the gurney. But I make no promises.

On a more serious note: the fact that the “job application kiosks were full at around 9:45 a.m.” means that the Target (and the mall as a whole) is at least fulfilling one of it’s primary objectives – supplying a large amount of employment to a city that needs some in order to continue a positive trend in unemployment rates which has flattened in the past two years. Now, if it only follows through on raising property values in Columbia Heights and fostering more growth in the neighborhood, then it could be a smashing success.

If you were a kid at any time during the 80s and 90s and had cable television, chances are that you’re pretty familiar with Clarissa Darling and the Bar None Dude Ranch. Although a shocking (…or not) number of these child actors seemed to call it quits on their television careers not long after their stint on Nickelodeon, some of them went on to bigger and better things. Like what? You know you’re dying to know.